《An ordinary novel but every 10,000 words the audience kills the least interesting character》💀 4 💀
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— Rewind. Dawn.
— Sunlight rolled over the peaks and down the foothills.
— They were back down in the valley, encircled by heather, wind ruffling the tent. The door to the lift jutted out of a boulder.
— Saheel, lay back, sinking into the moss, eyes shut tight, wincing, but unharmed.
— Eirlys had been quick enough. But it was a small victory, and she still felt responsible.
— That made three people who'd trusted her to be competent; three people she'd let down.
— And then she noticed the number out of her hand, glowing crimson.
"Very well," she said.
— First, she touched the remote to the number and pressed pause. It kept jumping up in that sporadic, anxiety inducing manner.
— Next, she tried pausing herself. But that didn't work, either.
Saheel was shuddering with adrenaline, but once he got up and saw her, he stopped dead.
"Oh no, sister," he said. He tried to pause the counter with the remote.
"It's not going to work." She unstrapped her communication tile and let it fall into a gorse bush.
"What are you doing?" he said. "We need to force a timeskip, and now! Aren't you going to call the others?"
"They'd never agree," she said. "And if the flesh mound blocked it, we'd just be making it stronger."
"But... but..."
"I don't deserve it, priest," she said, and went to sit inside her tent. She zipped up the entrance, then used the Glue Gun to seal it. Her temporary home had already caught the sun — the warmth comforted her, like going back to the womb.
— It would make a fine grave.
Saheel yanked on the zip, trying to unstick it, but it had already glued fast. Instead, his silhouette crouched next to her, only a thin layer of fabric between them.
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— Damn it all. She grabbed a handful of grass and ripped it out of the ground.
"Eirlys..."
"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned," she said.
"No!"
"I acted negligently, and it resulted in the death of somebody who trusted me to guide her—"
"There was no way you could have known," he said. "At worst, that's only manslaughter..."
"Let me confess," she said. "Please."
"Everybody makes mistakes. The American woman took her own risks in coming out here. You can't say it's a sin to not be perfect. Don't give up just yet. I'm begging you."
"Saheel," she mumbled. "Excuses are the privilege of the living. What's done can't be undone. I'm responsible. Now, I demand my absolution!"
Saheel ripped open the tent, and the sun bathed Eirlys in blinding light. "What am I going to do without you, sister? You're the one that's been coming up with all the plans — lord, you just saved my life! We said we'd escape together! I can't believe you're just giving up!"
Eirlys couldn't meet his eyes. "It's as Kari said. I'm condemned. I wasn't competent enough. It's only right to trade my life for hers."
He grabbed her, and lifted her through the hole. "You must have something. Some secret weapon. A way to smash through the fourth wall and get out of here right now! Don't you get it — the only reason we've made it this far is because of you!"
— And Eirlys laughed. The hilarity spread throughout her body until she threw her head back in his arms, whooping, her shouts echoing for miles around.
— He held her, uncomprehending.
"Sorry," she said. "Even in my final moments, I wasn't strong enough."
"Just what am I supposed to do?"
She smiled. "Stay here and charge up a rock until you get the wordcount back. Then go and come to terms with your murder, in a way that I couldn't. You're stronger than you think, Saheel. Trust your own judgment. Now, won't you read me my Last Rites?"
— But it was too late. She passed away in his arms.
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